The Hardest Part
by littorella
Summary: Soubi pays Minami Ritsu a visit and learns that control and truth were things he never had, least of all now. Follow the rabbit and see behind what really happened between Beloved, Nana no Tsuki, and Loveless.
1. Truth

Notes: Spoilers for all of the manga. Takes place after volume 8. Seeing as the manga is not really moving anymore, this is my own made up vision of what happened with Seimei's death.

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**The Hardest Part**

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White.

White walls, white bed, white curtains.

The room was completely bare except for a few withering flowers on a table. Sunlight streamed through the windows, stealing the color out of everything, including the man sitting in his wheelchair. The man was dressed in pure white and had his back to the door. Soubi couldn't see the man's face, but he didn't have to. He already knew the smug and self-satisfied expression that would greet him.

"I've been waiting for you. I knew you couldn't resist coming," the man said, motionless except for his lips, which twisted into subtle sneer.

Soubi pulled his white coat closed, as if it could conceal him amongst the colorless elements of the infirmary room. He didn't know whether to approach the man or not. His feet felt too heavy to move, but his mind was a fury of thoughts that demanded him to go. The man in the wheelchair chuckled at his hesitation to step past the doorway. At this taunt, Soubi narrowed his eyes and forced his feet to carry him to the man.

He slowed his steps as he reached the wheelchair. His gaze traveled to the man's bandaged eyes. Even though he knew those piercing eyes were gone, there was something about the bandages that frightened him. Not wanting to be so close to the man, Soubi took a step further and leaned against the window, half sitting on the sill.

"Could you move a bit to the right? You're blocking the sunlight," the man complained in a casual tone, "I'm still trying to learn to feel everything."

Soubi grudgingly slid a bit to the right and let the sun illuminate the man's face. He pulled out a cigarette and fumbled in his pockets for his lighter. The injured man turned his way curiously. Soubi tossed his long hair out the way and lit the cigarette, subsequently blowing out a few circles of smoke. The scent immediately polluted the clear sterile air of the room.

"Didn't anyone tell you that it is impolite to smoke in an infirmary?"

The young man made a sound of ironic disbelief and bent down to blow a large puff of smoke into the older man's face.

"I didn't come to see you be pathetic," Soubi said harshly. He leaned heavily on the window sill and crossed his feet. Ash was falling on the immaculately clean ground, but he couldn't care less.

"Does it please you to see me like this, Soubi-kun?"

The pale man smiled wistfully and reached up with one hand to lightly touch his bandages.

"I don't give a damn how you are." Soubi took a long drag of his cigarette and tapped more ash onto the ground. He knew that ash irritated the man and so he took extra care to spread it everywhere so the scent of cigarettes could linger long after her had left, as a reminder.

"The day you please me is the day you die…" he said with much distain before adding in a mocking afterthought, "…_Minami-sensei._"

Minami made no protests. He merely said, "And yet you still come back to see me. How touching."

"I want to know about names. I want to know my mother's name," Soubi said forcefully, ignoring Minani's previous comment. He watched Minani's face intently, paying attention to every small movement. Without eyes, it was hard to tell what the man was thinking, not that his cold eyes were ever particularly revealing. Minami opened his lips slightly as if you speak, but stopped abruptly. He thoughtfully rested his chin on his hand.

"You mother's name was Agatsuma Ariya."

Soubi frowned and glared at the man.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. Nagisa told me she was a fighter as well. She also said names are passed down from a parent to a child when they die."

Minami leaned back in his chair and rubbed his left wrist as if it was cramping. He smiled enigmatically and said, "come here Soubi-kun. Come here." He reached out his hand to beckon the younger man.

Hesitating for a moment, Soubi stubbed out his cigarette on the window sill and took two steps, landing him right in front of his former teacher. Minami took his hand in a firm grasp and tugged on it, signaling him to kneel until they were at a more equal level. The blind man slid his hand up Soubi's arm, past his shoulder, and paused at the bandages of his neck. The cold fingers examined his bandaged neck, but made no attempt to remove them. Soubi shuddered at the gesture, but found himself frozen, unable to protest.

"I should have never given you to him. If I had known he would damage you, I wouldn't have."

The fingers moved to touch his jaw line, paused again at his lips before moving on to see every feature of his face. They brushed past his ears, down his nose, tracing his brow line and feeling each eye with gentle care. Minami's hand treated him as if he were a precious piece of artwork that could crumble if the touches had too much pressure.

"Such fierce eyes, Soubi-kun," The hand kept on until they ran through the individual strands of his almost colorless hair. Minami continued, "You are growing to look more like her everyday."

"Tell me about her, or I will leave," Soubi said sharply.

"She was beautiful. She looked like sunlight…Ariya. Ariya was a cruel woman. Cruel to me, cruel to you."

Minani twisted the corners of his mouth into an ironic smile. He took his hand back and laid it on his lap, laying his other hand over it. The man drew a long breath and continued.

"Your mother…she broke the rules and cursed you for life. Fighters are not supposed to be with Sacrifices of another name, much less have a child with them. You shouldn't exist. You are what happens when fate doesn't know what to do. You are forever doomed to be used."

Soubi stiffened and clenched his fists. It hurt his left hand to do so, but the pain kept him aware of the reality around him.

"Did I say something you don't like?"

"No, continue."

Minami reached out again for Soubi's right hand. This time, he took it in his right and pulled Soubi's fingers to his left wrist. The blind man leaned forward calling for Soubi to do that same. He leaned until his lips brushed against the younger man's cheek. As Soubi's fingers touched Minami's wrist, etched words flared to life on the skin. He couldn't write read what they said, but it didn't matter. Minami tilted his head and whispered in his ear.

"_Our _name was Godless."

Soubi could feel lips curling into a smile against his ear as they added, "As should have yours."

That meant his mother was Minami's…

He jerked his hand back and backed away from the wheelchair. The word Godless was still glowing on Minami's wrist accusingly.

"Don't you want to hear about how she died?"

Soubi shook his head and kept taking steps back, away from the man in the wheelchair. He spun around and quickly walked toward the door. This was too much, he couldn't bear to be in the same room as this man.

"She died with tears clouding her eyes. It was beautiful. It was her punishment."

Soubi look at Minami with wild eyes. The man had his back turned, just as he had been when Soubi first entered. There was no sign of him having moved, yet with only words, he had dealt more pain than any physical wound could have. It made everything he had endured so much worse.

"It was her punishment, and it shall be yours as well."

The young man rushed out and slammed the door behind him.

White tension pressed upon his eyes.

A woman with flowers entered the room he had just left, looking after him curiously.

"Was that Soubi?" she asked Minami as she threw away the withered flowers on the table and replaced them with the ones in her arms.

The blind man turned his wheelchair around and smiled smugly.

"Don't worry, he'll be back."


	2. Audacity

Note: Truthfully, perhaps Soubi is too weak and couldn't bring himself to do this...but then again, he is awfully short-tempered with Ritsu...

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**Part II - Audacity**

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_"Ritsu, it is not written that all fighters must love their sacrifices or the reverse."_

That was what she had said.

It was a line that had been carved into his memory.

But he had loved her, as he should have. He loved her strength, her independence, her power. Never in his life had he met a woman who was so defiant, and he obsessed over it, wanted to control it. And just as it was her greatest strength, it was also her greatest flaw. She had to go and love _him,_ that man…someone unworthy of her affections. It was shameful, Godless and Endless. It was wrong beyond description.

He snorted at the thought of them together. More like thoughtless and brainless, the pair.

Rubbing his wrist, he wondered if they bled when their names touched.

It was against the unspoken rules.

And yet they managed. Managed to marry each other, managed to build a life, managed to have a child.

Nameless.

The two fools thought their son had escaped their cruel world of violence, having searched him and not found a name anywhere. Little did they know that he was trapped in the worst possible way. They hadn't seen the gift in him, perhaps because they didn't want to, but he, Minami Ritsu, had. He had seen the power in her quiet boy.

In the end, it had been all about the boy.

"_I can't do this anymore. I have to quit. Soubi is starting to understand things and I can't have him see me like this. How do I explain the blood?"_

She had pleaded with him, a fighter making demands of her master. It was unforgivable.

Ritsu reached up to touch the gauze around his eyes. If only he could have seen her, no, Soubi's face today. That face was most beautiful when it was in pain. He remembered that day so many years ago, when his punishment broke her. Torn between her obedience to her Sacrifice and her love for _him. _In the end, one bond triumphed over the other, as it was meant to. She was most beautiful that day.

He remembered so clearly.

Soft light creped away into the evening as he thought about what had happened. In truth, he hadn't meant for her to die, it was extremely unfortunate that it had happened that way. He really did love her, but it hadn't been enough for her to stay apparently.

Did he regret it?

He pondered the question for a few moments. She should have been his, was destined to be. Ritsu let his thoughts linger on the woman for a second more before he decided the answer was no. No matter how he turned it over in his head, he just couldn't find any regret.

After all, he had finally won that day.

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Starring at the same dusk, Soubi stood in Ritsuka's room.

He leaned forward with his elbows on the window sill and took a long drag of his cigarette. He watched intently as the ashes fell into the dim nothingness outside. Examining his left hand, he traced the pink indention where flesh had knit back together.

Soubi stood there for a long time, until it was pitch black.

"Soubi?" a childish voice inquired as lights suddenly turned on. He squinted at the sharp brightness. It burned his eyes to see.

Slowly, he turned around and rubbed his eyes. Ritsuka stood at the door, fingers still lingering on the light switch, looking at him strangely.

"Why are you standing in the dark?"

Soubi shook his head and replied good naturedly, "I guess I just lost track of time and forgot that it was dark." He accompanied this with a reassuring smile.

The boy shrugged and plopped down on the bed, shoes still on. "I am so tired. I don't know what to think anymore," he complained, overly dramatic, "I just want to sleep."

He shuffled off his shoes unceremoniously, each making a loud thud as they hit the floor. Ritsuka rolled off the bed and headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The sound of running water stirred Soubi from his thoughts. The present was catching up. He wasn't sure what was truth and what were lies. That mark around his neck was true. Ritsuka's presence was true. Beyond that, he didn't know.

Ritsuka quickly got in bed and looked at him.

"Aren't you going to sleep too?"

He nodded and laid down beside the boy. There was such innocence resonating from the small body beside him that he couldn't help but admire it. Were all children like this? Was he? He couldn't remember, but then again, innocence was something only recognized once lost.

"Why do you put up with me?" he asked tentatively.

Ritsuka turned to face him and said simply, "Because you need it."

Words caught in his throat and Soubi couldn't continue this conversation. He poked Ritsuka and said jokingly, "Not for my charming good looks?"

The boy laughed, kissed him on the cheek, and laid back down.

Soubi smiled as well and leaned down to touch Ritsuka's forehead with his lips. His hand on the boy's shoulder slip up along his neck, past his ear ,and against his cheek. A finger ran along his jaw delicately until his thumb traced the curve of Ritsuka's lower lip. His fingers seemed to have a mind of their own and moved up toward Ritsuka's bright eyes held captive by his own.

"_Such fierce eyes, Soubi-kun."_

He froze.

Soubi withdrew his hand as if it had touched fire. His fingers burned with thick accusation. How could he? He looked down at the person in front of him. Just a child. A mere child should not be treated in such a way. It was inappropriate. It was nauseating. He was becoming…

Shaking, he pulled away and moved to stand up from the bed, much to the dismay of a very confused Ritsuka. Throwing the covers aside and quickly leaving, Soubi felt a type of pain that he'd never experienced before. It rushed through his veins and burned his heart like poison come undone. He didn't like it.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, I've just forgotten something," he replied brusquely.

The man swung his coat over his shoulders and left the room in a flurry of jumbled thoughts.

He walked until he was sure no one was near. Soubi slumped against the wall and slid down until he sat on the ground. He stretched his legs out, limbs long and awkwardly jointed. Head back, staring at the ceiling, he wondered what this feeling was. Was it being lost? Was it being pulled in several direction? Was it disgust?

Sad, relieved, precious, heartbreaking.

He couldn't decide. And, in truth, he didn't have the clarity of mind to decide. The only thing he could for sure say was that this was an occasion for another smoke. When his search for a cigarette turned out empty handed, he sighed and banged his head backwards against the wall. Everything was a mess, left to him by people too selfish to resolve it themselves.

In hindsight, it had been so easy with Seimei.

Frustrated, Soubi got to his feet and continued down the hall. It had been so long since he wandered through these halls in the dark. He let his right hand drag along the wall as he continued forward. Not much had changed. The school was still the same dark lonely place it was years ago, filled with quiet anguish and suppressed tears.

Rounding corners and going down stairs, he cut through the dense air of Shichisei Gouken. At last, he turned to a door. It was a regular door, not unlike the others down the hall. But he knew, with every impulse, that this was not just any entrance.

Behind it was Minami Ritsu's office.

Soubi touched the door knob and felt a wave of revulsion.

This was where it all started.

He gripped the knob tightly and turned it. To his surprise, it was unlocked and he found himself in that room full of glimmering glass once again. The walls were covered in glass frames, catching the moonlight from the window. There were many more butterflies than he remembered. He felt sick.

Always a collector…

His Minami-sensei was a collector of beautiful things: butterflies, books, people.

Soubi's pale hair stood out against the dark walls, individual strands gleaming in moonlight. He could see his reflection in every single glass pane on the walls, mocking him. The scar on his neck burned. This was where he was cast aside by the man who claimed to treasure him. No amount of joy could undo the pain that this room had caused him.

"_Never touch them. You'll leave finger prints."_

The ash-colored man paused, his fingertips an inch away from the glass. Dead silence rang in his ears. He wanted to touch them, but Minami's words repeated themselves over and over in his head.

"_Never touch them."_

He knew he shouldn't. Yet at that moment, something snapped inside of him, and he boldly ran his hand over one of the glass panels, covering his reflection on it. Smooth glass made no protest as his fingers slid over it. He could make out the glistening blue butterflies beneath his hand, pinned to paper, forever on display. How he hated them.

How he hated to be one of them.

With unsteady hands, he lifted the frame and fought its affinity to the wall. Once it was off the wall, he examined the butterflies against the moonlight carefully. They were all perfect, not a piece of wing missing, not a speck of glowing powder on the paper below. He had to admire the man for his attention to detail. But what it represented was another story.

He couldn't. Sensei's word was his law. Yes, he couldn't.

But he was so tired. So tired of being left behind, an object to be looked at occasionally and forgotten when the novelty wore off. Tired of being passed around, giving out his undying loyalty each time like it was worthless. Yet, a small voice told him that it was what he wanted, to be completely controlled.

He couldn't.

But serving three different and conflicting wishes was never something he wanted. It made it so that he could never keep his word to all three, and he despised himself for not being able to. He hated them for forcing him to choose.

No, he could.

Soubi lifted the large frame above his head and forcefully threw it to the ground. With a sharp and painful crash, the glass splintered into countless pieces, breaking the delicate butterflies as they fractured.

To him, the sound was beautiful.

Glass shards glistened all over the ground below him. Each, a precious gem. He stepped over the breathtaking mess on the ground, mesmerized by the pattern. What was this other feeling? It was one he'd never experienced. Unlike before, this one was empowering and addictive. There was peace in it. Peace and fire.

"_You are special. Only you dictate who you are, precious."_

A warm sweet voice once said to him. Soubi could no longer remember her face, but he reveled in the audible pride.

He knew he couldn't linger here, someone would come soon. He raise his right hand and compressed all his hate and anger into a single word. It was lovely. He could see it already, the floor covered in the broken remains of that which Sensei had treasured so much. The air around his hand gathered speed as he thought of his word. It was delivered with an adamant will.

"SHATTER!"

All the glass in the room broke in one deafening scream.

Ritsu woke with a start in his infirmary bed.

"Soubi-kun, what have you done?"

His words were a hoarse whisper, lost to the still night.


	3. Memory

Notes: And we're back, finally!

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**Part III - Memory**

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Harsh morning light burned as it struck Soubi's face. His eyes winced against the heat before blinking open. Lifting his head, Soubi attempted to rise but stopped once he felt Ritsuka shift beside him. The boy was fast asleep and rolled over, placing a warm hand on the pillow between them. His lip trembled as he settled into his new position. By the twitching under his eyelids, Soubi could tell Ritsuka was dreaming.

He smiled wistfully at the boy and pulled the comforter up to cover Ritsuka's exposed shoulder. As he did so, Soubi suddenly felt a pang of shame. He slipped a finger through the boy's dark hair. There was a strange texture to it that he hadn't noticed before; a distinct silk-like softness that felt familiar, like long forgotten thoughts.

Soubi stopped and pressed his palm on Ritsuka's temple. It was a movement that spoke of repetition, of a previous encounter. Words began to form in his head as he laid his hand on the sleeping boy. Soubi suddenly realized that he knew the words well. The act brought him back to a fuzzy moment of kneeling, holding both hands around Ritsuka's temples; the boy staring back with unseeing eyes.

When had he ever done this? It must have been an illusion cooked up by his sleepy, anxious mind. But the more time Soubi allowed himself to think of the words, the clearer it became. In fact, a strange and utterly forgotten confrontation began to take shape in him head. The emptiness in Ritsuka's eyes became ever more real.

"Do it, Soubi. Obey the order." He heard Seimei's careful voice commanding in the distance.

All of a sudden, Soubi remembered. "_Dream of new moments, dream of before, dream of nothing, forget!_" Ritsuka's condition—the amnesia, the changes, they weren't mysterious, they were a spell—a spell he'd cast. Soubi felt his hands shake in protest and closed his eyes as to not look at Ritsuka's face. The image of quiet fear from Ritsuka's big eyes clouded his thoughts. The guilt was too much. He'd done it, he shouldn't have, but he'd done it, as ordered.

"Seimei—"

His voice cracked as he buried his face into his pillow.

The memories swam slowly back in the form of restless dreams. They clouded his unconscious in droves and bleed together in little hatched lines like ink on silk canvas. Soubi could only watch from within his eyes, barely comprehending their truth.

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"I require something from you," Seimei said with deliberate softness.

"Anything."

His sacrifice smiled slyly, as if he were simultaneously plotting and pleased with himself. Seimei reached up and drew a hand through Soubi's long hair. "You know I like to hear that."

"I live to serve you."

Tugging at the neckline of Soubi's sweater, Seimei straightened it to sit more symmetrically above his button-up. He did this often, always adjusting Soubi to look effortlessly perfect, not a thread out of place. The boy wiggled his ears as he smirked, "What I am going to ask will be difficult."

Soubi stared at him dumbly.

"You must promise to do it," Seimei whispered stiffly into his ear.

"Yes."

"Good." The terse reply was well received. "I need you to erase Ritsuka's memory. This past year, Loveless, Natsume, everything. Take care to especially erase Natsume as if he'd never existed. I don't want there to be any bit of him left. Whatever spell you choose, just make sure Ritsuka will never remember."

"But —"

Seimei shot him an icy look. Soubi's hands shook, shocked by what was asked of him. "But Natsume is Ritsuka's fighter. Erasing the bond between them could damage Ritsuka greatly."

"Are you talking back to me? As if I haven't given any thought about my own brother?" Seimei asked incredulously, looking disgusted.

Silence.

"I didn't ask for your opinion. I gave you an order," the boy snapped, harsh and cruel.

The world seemed to swim in shades of faded blue, aching with Soubi's heart. He didn't know where he was or what he was doing. There was no justice or compassion in the world. And just as it was in many of his dreams, he drifted mysteriously into another moment, as if the before and now were one and the same. He was kneeling on pavement under misty autumn dusk. The air was moist and sighed with falling leaves.

"I gave you an order!"

Soubi now stood with his hands on Ritsuka's temples. The young boy was momentarily dazed and frozen by his spell, eyes unfocused and unseeing like glass. Dark hair soft as silk slipped between his fingers as he held them tightly against Ritsuka's head. How could he do something so heartless to an innocent?

"Do it, Soubi. Obey the order," Seimei commanded stiffly.

Where was Natsume? How could a fighter let this happen to his sacrifice?

Soubi looked up at Seimei, pleading for a way out of such ugliness. The boy's brother merely narrowed his eyes in expectation. Soubi sighed and applied pressure to Ritsuka's temples, drawing the energy from his mind. It was so wrong; it was almost like stealing a soul. "Dream of new moments, dream of before, dream of nothing, forget!" He forced the words out, drawing power from their sound and meaning. Ritsuka's pupils dilated suddenly as the memory of his fighter and his life drained from his mind.

At the end of the spell, the boy gave a heart-retching whimper and collapsed, unconscious and weak with tears trailing down his thin face. Soubi held him, feeling inexplicable sorrow and regret for the boy's loss.

"Good," Seimei said, "And now, Soubi. I leave you with a mission."

"A mission?" He echoed in a strained whisper.

"Yes. I'm must go somewhere now."

"Where?"

Seimei smiled a devlishly kind smile. "A place you cannot follow."

"What about Ritsuka?"

Seimei widened his wicked smile and looked down with false care. "That is your mission. You must stay with him and protect him as he heals. You must become Loveless."

"But I am yours; I am Beloved. I am to always follow you," Soubi protested, still clutching the fallen Ritsuka. He felt his pulse jumping erratically at the prospect of being cast aside once again. The pain of leaving his sensei, of Beloved twisting deep inside him like poison. His scars burned.

"You will stay."

"No, please. Let me go with you," he pleaded.

"Soubi, you will stay." Seimei's voice was hard and unyielding.

"I can't, please don't make me. Please!"

"Stay."

"No."

Seimei's brow creased for a single second, betraying his anger, before he put on a kind face and spoke with unusual grace and warmth. He pushed a lock of hair behind Soubi's ear and bent down to draw their faces close. Soubi shuddered at the contact. His sacrifice smiled sweetly and placed a kiss on his cheek, a gesture the young man could not help but feel shivering loyalty toward.

"Soubi," Seimei said as he placed his other hand in the long ashen hair, "You know that you must forget this._ Forget,_ forget, forget what you've done." The words travelled through him like icy fingers, crawling painfully and settling everywhere. Behind his eyes, in his throat, deep inside his chest. "_Forget._ Stay with Ritsuka, protect him. Be his fighter. Obey him."

Soubi's eyes glossed over as the spell took a hold of him. Sneer twisting on his lips, Seimei lifted his hands and muttered to himself, "You're not the only one who can erase things, Soubi. My powers might not be very strong, but they'll have to do."

Looking up in confusion, Soubi remained still.

"Stay," Beloved commanded again.

This time, his fighter only nodded mechanically.

"Yes."

But Seimei had overestimated his own abilities; his spell was weak, ill-prepared, thin and torn at the edges like rotting old magazines. All it took was a jarring disturbance and the right cultivating anxiety to fully unravel. Soubi was remembering everything, each thought coming to him with an alien familiarity.


End file.
